


I Remember You

by ChaosControl



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2-D is just stu, Alternate Universe, Canonical Child Abuse, Drug Use, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Child Abuse, Phase Four (Gorillaz), Trauma, everyone is happy, everything is GOOD and no one cries, everything is fine, except for me. i cried writing the first chapter of this., it progresses through phases though, murdoc is actually nice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 00:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16398170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosControl/pseuds/ChaosControl
Summary: AU where Murdoc was never abused as a child.(Title and description in progress!)





	I Remember You

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo! just a couple of things to say before y'all get to reading this. first of all, this is only a prologue. i'm currently working on the other chapters, and have the plot written out and all that mess. second, there is a suicide mention and drug abuse tw for this chapter!! thanks for reading!

There was silence in the house for a moment.

But only a moment.

Before he could regain a collected state of mind, he heard bottles clinking together, falling, then a string of curse words echoing through the halls.

His headache was already pounding, and he was sure that the constant noise coming from Murdoc’s room wouldn’t make it better any time soon. But, still, he made a sorry attempt to lay his head on the stiff, zebra-patterned pillow and rest, even for a few minutes. Absentmindedly grabbing a bottle from his bedside table, dropping a few into his slender, bruised hands, he dumped them into his mouth and swallowed.

Finally, the silence had returned, save for the living room TV and the low hum of the AC. Pulling the blankets a bit closer to his body, he slowed his breathing and began to drift off.

Only five minutes had passed before the cursing and rambling had started up again, this time followed by… crying?

No, surely he’d heard incorrectly. Murdoc doesn’t cry.

But he could’ve sworn that he heard a sniffle.

Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he pulled himself out of bed, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around his thin frame. He knew that disturbing Murdoc wouldn’t help anything, but it was worth a shot. What did he have to lose?

Shifting aside the beads hanging from his doorframe, he slowly stepped out into the hallway. He walked toward Murdoc’s room, listening to the floorboards complain with every step. Approaching his room, the blue haired boy knocked faintly. Hearing no response, he opened the door ever so slightly.

There sat Murdoc on the edge of his bed, knees to his chest. A small cloud of smoke hovered above him as he burned what looked to be a Polaroid picture. At his feet, ashes.

“Murdoc?”

In a moment, their eyes met.

“D-Dents, what are you…” he paused for a moment, the lighter still burning in his hands. “Did you even knock? What are you doing in here? What do you want?”

“I don’t know I… I thought I heard something, is all.”

Lowering his knees, he sniffled once more, playing it off as nothing more than a cold. “Heard something? Like what?”

“Well, I thought I heard you… uh…”

“Spit it out, then! I don’t have all night.”

“I thought you were… crying.”

“Crying?! Where’d you get that idea? I’m not a bloody sap; I don’t cry.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

There was silence in the room for a few more moments as both men sat in the cold, cluttered room. Neither of them knew what to say or do, but they did know that they were uncomfortable with the situation.

“Alright, well… I’m here if you need me, I guess.”

Murdoc scoffed. “I don’t, but alright.” And with that, 2-D walked out, closing the door softly behind him. Feeling the painkillers starting to kick in, he headed back to his room and laid down, finally able to drift off to silence.

✝  ✝ ✝

Flipping a lighter through his calloused fingers, Murdoc allowed a single tear to drop onto the floor. He hadn’t slept all night, and he could feel the bags under his eyes weighing him down. He glanced over at the clock - 4:13 AM.

He couldn’t be here alone. Not now. His mental health was plummeting, and the shotgun leaning against his bed frame was starting to seem appealing.

Swallowing his pride, he shoved the lighter in his pocket and headed into the hallway. Taking only a few steps forward, he stopped in front of the beaded door frame that led into 2-D’s room. He peeked in, the beads causing a slight clatter, but not nearly enough to wake the sleeping man. With a hesitated motion, he walked into 2-D’s room.

He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. He didn’t want to wake him. But he didn’t want to go back to his own room.

He sat at the edge of the bed, looking over at the singer’s face. He wasn’t nervous or stressed; he looked… peaceful. Murdoc couldn’t help but to think that it was his fault for 2-D’s constant stress. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew that it was true.

Taking a long, tired sigh, he moved his legs up to the bed and rested his head on the pillow. 2-D was huddled up against the wall, so it wasn’t too hard for the shorter man to find room on the twin-sized bed. As soon as he laid down, however, he felt shuffling coming from the other end of the bed, and was met with two black scleras.

“Hm..? Murdoc, why are you…?” He couldn’t get out the rest of his question, but it was completely understood what he was asking. Murdoc himself wasn’t sure exactly why he chose to lay down - and in the same bed, at that.

“2-D, I, uh… S-Stu.” It had been years since either of them had heard that name. 2-D froze, eyes opening wider, yet still low due to his sleep-induced state. As much as he didn’t want to, Murdoc maintained eye contact, not letting up just quite yet. “Stu, listen. I… I’m sorry.” 2-D cocked one eyebrow up with puzzlement, repeating the words in his head.

“You’re… what?”

“I’m sorry, okay? Don’t make me say it again. I don’t want to…”

Murdoc sighed. Then, silence.

“Don’t want to what?”

“I don’t know, I… show weakness, I guess! I don’t know, okay?” Murdoc balled his hands into fists, almost ready to get up from the bed and-

No. He wasn’t going to do anything. He’s the reason that 2-D is always like this. He was trying to better himself, not go back to his old ways.

He let his hands loosen and allowed his teeth to stop grinding against each other.

“I don’t want to show weakness.”

“Why’s that? There’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ a little weak sometimes.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I…” Murdoc paused. He had never told anyone about this, and he wasn’t quite sure if he really wanted to. “It’s… Sebastian.”

“Is that… your dad?”

“No.” He paused, letting his sharpened nails sink into the blanket beneath him. “I mean, yes, he is, but he’s not… y’know.” 2-D stared off, unsure of what was being told to him. Murdoc recognized this almost immediately, well too acquainted with the blue haired boy’s lack of intellect. “He is, yeah. I just… don’t call him that because of the way he treated me.”

“How did he treat you? If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

“Like the way I treat you.”

2-D stopped for a moment, motionless, breathless. “Murdoc, you don’t… you don’t treat me like that.”

“Stu, I really do! I know you don’t see it, but… I do. I hit you with my fucking car, for Satan’s sake! I constantly torment and bully you, I call you names, I degrade you, I…” Murdoc paused, the heavy weight of realization sinking onto his shoulders. “I’m abusive, Stu. I didn’t realize it until now but I’m… I’m awful to you. And I didn’t realize it because of my dad. I thought it was normal, but it’s not. Not in the fucking slightest. And I feel like an idiot for not knowing that and… and hurting you.” Murdoc turned away from the singer, eyes welling up with tears once again. He couldn’t let him see. Not after he had spent so many years holding everything back, bottling up every emotion and every traumatic experience. He couldn’t let it slip now, not after so much progress. Taking a long breath, he spoke again.

“I’m sorry.” The words came from his mouth with no hesitation this time. A cold, haunting silence crept across the room, making a home for a long while. Murdoc didn’t dare speak any more, and 2-D was entirely unsure of how to respond.

“I’ll leave you be,” Murdoc mumbled, lifting himself off the bed slowly, joints popping as he stood. Without looking back, he sighed. “G’night, Stu.” As soon as the door behind him closed, tears fell from Murdoc’s eyes. He couldn’t hold this shit in any longer.

It only took a few seconds for him to get to his room. He already knew what he was going to do. There was a shotgun in there, leaning against the couch, hidden amongst the mess of his room, and it was waiting for him.


End file.
